Some of My Best Work
by brachan90
Summary: With all of her friends married, Marron is starting to feel down. Yamcha has always been the one there for her. Can friendship become something more. (No lemon! It's rare to find a M/Y fic without a lemon!)


Some of My Best Work 

Another Marron/Yamcha story – as per the request of Kinomi (make sure you check out May and December! ). Don't like the couple, don't read the story – you have been warned. Don't own the characters, etc, etc, etc.

_Some of my best work was you_

_I wish you were here right now_

_But I still don't want to know if you're moving on_

_- "Best Work", The Whitlams_

Yamcha's heart pounded as he ran. Bulma was going to kill him. He was late, for her only son's wedding. And he had been late for her only daughter's wedding as well. _Forget kill – she's going to mutilated me!_

He burst through the back door of the church in time to see Trunks and his bride face one another. A passing thought made Yamcha wonder how Gohan was coping. His little girl was about to marry Mr Eligible Bachelor. A quick glance at his face showed that he wasn't particularly fazed.

Yamcha's eyes locked with Bulma's for a moment…bad idea. He could tell that she was fuming. _Geez, you'd think that I was the kids' _real_ uncle the way she acts sometimes. Just because we dated for a couple of years, doesn't make her ruler of my life. _With a sheepish smile, he weaved his way to the front, and took a seat next to the other groomsmen. 

Goten elbowed Yamcha in the side. "Nice of you to show up, Yamcha."

Uub, on the other side, chimed in. "Yeah, Bulma was irate when you didn't show! Especially since you were late to me and Bra's wedding."

"Not to mention me and Paresu's."

Yamcha managed a smile. It was true – he had never been on time to anything in his life. He had always been – and would probably forever be – late to everything. And that included settling down. It sometimes saddened him to realise that Goten, Uub and now Trunks – three men who he could have easily fathered – were now married and, in Goten's case and soon to be Uub's also, with children of their own. He could remember times that the three of them respected him as a player, when all four of them would try to pick up at bars. _Seems they grew up before I did._

Lost in his own thoughts, Yamcha had missed what was left of the ceremony. He regained attention just in time to hear the minister announce: "You may now kiss the bride."

The beaming, basically teenaged bride lifted her veil to reveal a pretty face. It was strange to see Pan wearing makeup – she had always been the tomboy. Trunks and Pan met for a passionate kiss.

Yamcha glanced to the other side of the front row. Two of the bridesmaids, one heavily pregnant, were clapping and cheering loudly. The third looked like she was desperately trying to control a vicious temper. 

_I wonder what's wrong with Marron,_ he thought to himself, for that was who the third bridesmaid was. Her frown seemed to fade as she looked over and caught his eye. In fact, it disappeared completely. 

Marron had not seen Yamcha enter the church at the last minute, but when she turned she noticed him sitting with Goten and Uub, looking her way. She smiled broadly. _Looks like he finally showed up!_

It was the same smile that she had bore when she was just a few days old; when Yamcha had first seen her. From that day, he had seen her grow from a tiny baby, to an adorable little girl (despite having no nose), to a giggling schoolgirl and finally into a young woman with beauty to rival the women of the Briefs family.

Yamcha returned the smile, and winked at her. She would always be his little Marron-chan.

*   *   *   *   *   *

Marron's eyes scanned the reception room until she spotted what she wanted: a waiter with a tray of champagne glasses. She made a direct course towards him, and grabbed two glasses as she passed.

They were emptied quickly, and Marron was once again on the lookout.

From a not-so-quiet corner, Yamcha watched her. Currently, he was babysitting Goten and Paresu's three-year-old daughter, Marseille, while her parents danced.

"Doesn't my flower girl dress look pretty, Yamcha-ojiisan?" Marseille asked.

"It certainly does, Marseille-chan," he replied. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Yes, please!"

Taking the toddler's hand, Yamcha lead her to one of the food tables; the table where Marron was standing, watching one of the waiters like a hawk.

"Marron-chan, what're you doing here all by yourself?" Yamcha asked.

Marron jumped. "Yamcha! You scared me! I-I'm just bumming around. Nothing else to do."

"Yamcha-san! Please help!" Marseille called. She couldn't quite reach the tray of finger food that she was grabbing at. Yamcha lifted her up so her chubby little hands could be filled with delicacies. "Thanks!"

Marron gave a little smile. "I remember when you used to do that for me. Looks like I've been dumped."

There was something about her tone that gave Yamcha the idea that she wasn't just trying to be funny. And he could have sworn that she had mumbled, "Yet again" afterwards.

"Otousan!" Marseille ran into Goten's open arms.

"Hey, Yamcha! Thanks for that!" Goten called, before carrying his daughter to his wife.

"Anytime, Goten!" Yamcha replied. With Marseille gone, Yamcha gave Marron a concerned look. "What's bothering you, Marron-chan?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," she bluntly answered, but without making eye contact with him.

"Don't lie to me, Marron. If everything is fine, why are you stalking the free champagne waiters?"

She blushed and looked at him sheepishly. "You noticed?"

"I need some fresh air – come and keep me company."

Marron reluctantly followed him outside. The sweet smell of jasmine greeted them with the breeze. Yamcha found a stone seat within the gardens and sat down, motioning for Marron to do so also.

"Now tell me, why are you so miserable?" he probed. "Two of your friends are getting married – shouldn't you be happy for them?"

"I'm happy for Pan," Marron quietly answered.

"Why is Trunks denied your blessings?" As a comforting gesture, Yamcha placed a hand on her thigh, but noticing that she tensed as he did, he removed his hand immediately as if he had been burnt.

"Because Trunks is a worthless prick," Marron finally replied.

"Those are pretty harsh words, Marron," Yamcha said sternly, but not cruelly. "You and Trunks have been friends since you were children. What did he do to deserve your scorn?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. I've known you your whole life, Marron. You don't get angry easily, so Trunks must have done something terrible if you have decided to dislike him so much."

Marron opened her mouth, but quickly shut it again, obviously realising that what she had been going to say was not appropriate. She did this a few more times, fighting off the effects of alcohol and trying to keep her wits. Yamcha waited patiently. It was obvious that she wanted to tell him what was wrong, but she had to work out how to first. The more he pressed her to talk, the less likely she would.

Finally, Marron took a deep breath, and sighed. "We had a thing – Trunks and I, I mean…"

"A thing? But Trunks and Pan have been dating for a while. Was this before?" Yamcha asked gently.

"No, while they were dating. See – she was still in high school when they first started to go out. She wasn't ready for everything that he wanted. She was still a child."

"So Trunks was sleeping with you while dating Pan?"

Marron bit her lip. "He came and asked me if I would mind being like a mistress to him. At first I refused – Pan is my friend as well, and I didn't want to hurt her. But eventually, I gave in. He's very difficult to refuse…"

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Yamcha doubted that his young friend would have forced Marron into a sexual relationship, but he could not entirely rule the possibility out. Trunks _was_ Vegeta's son, after all.

"Oh, no! He would never do that!"

"I just wanted to make sure."

"I guess, I've always had a little thing for him," Marron said sadly. "And he has an almost irresistible puppy-dog look."

Yamcha chuckled. "That's probably the look that made him into such a spoilt brat when he was a kid. Bulma had a similar look…"

Marron looked at Yamcha. "She did the same thing to you…"

"Who? What?"

"Bulma – she used you, then ran off with Vegeta."

Placed in an awkward situation, Yamcha desperately tried to think of something to say. "It's not quite the same. Bulma wasn't the only one at fault for us breaking up."

"Still…you understand what I mean."

"Yes – it's difficult when you know you're being used. But wouldn't you prefer that, rather than him just using you without you knowing?"

"Maybe…" Marron blinked, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I fell in love with him…"

"I don't think that he meant to hurt you…"

"Well, he did! I couldn't keep it up, all the secrecy and lies. I told him that he couldn't be with both of us. It was me or Pan. You can guess who he chose. I forgot how fast schoolgirls grow up – Trunks didn't need me anymore. And then when he told me they were engaged…it hurt so much."

Yamcha wrapped his arms around Marron as she started sobbing. "Trunks shouldn't have used you like that, but don't hate him for it. He didn't expect you to fall for him like you did. He probably just thought you could go back to being friends once Pan was ready."

"I guess," Marron sniffled. "But why does it always have to be me? Why am I the one who always gets used?"

"I'm sure that's not true…"

"It is true. I've never been in a proper relationship…I've only ever been used…"

"I guess I can sympathise with you there. Apart from Bulma, the only women I've been with a skanky tarts; countless one-night-stands. It'd be nice to have someone who cared about me."

"I care about you – we all do!"

"You can't be what I need, Marron. You know that."

"Why not?"

Her question caught him completely off guard. "E-Excuse me?"

"Why can't _we_ be together?"

"Now, Marron, think about what you're saying. There's no way we could be together in that sort of way."

"Why not!?" she demanded again, stubbornly.

"There are so many reasons – think about it! You gave one very obvious example earlier, when I was helping little Marseille. _I used to do the same thing for you_, and you could be Marseille's mother!"

"Well, I'm not her mother!"

"That's not the point, Marron!" Yamcha snapped. He couldn't believe what was happening. He had taken Marron away from the reception so he could find out what was upsetting her, and now she was suggesting that _they_ become a couple! "I'm more than thirty years older than you. I'm old enough to be _your_ father…"

"You're afraid, aren't you?" she asked, quietly. "Afraid of what everyone will think. You've never cared about the opinion of others. That's one of the things I've always loved about you."

"Whoa! Marron – don't use the 'L-word' when talking about me!"

"You're just the same as Trunks! He said that too!" Angry tears streamed down Marron's face. 

"Marron, please don't be like this! I don't want to hurt you…it's just…it's just I can't love you in that way. There are so many reasons why it wouldn't work."

"There are so many reasons why it would work too." 

Marron pushed her body close to his, and Yamcha felt his cheeks burn. Desire flamed inside him, which, try as he might, he could not control. He had always envied Krillin for his beautiful wife – Juuhachigou had an inhuman perfection, a lot of which had been passed onto Marron. 

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Yamcha," she whispered seductively in his ear.

"Marron, please don't…"

She pressed her lips against his in a powerful kiss. Despite his struggling, she managed to hold him in it, forcing him to increase his ki to over power her. 

Marron held a hand to her lips. "What am I doing?" She started to cry again. "Oh, Yamcha, I'm so sorry…so sorry I dragged you into this…"

He pulled her back into his arms. He hated the way in which something that should have felt so wrong, felt so right. He loved the feeling of having her in his arms, smelling the sweet scent of her perfume. "Shhh, it's okay, Marron."

"I'd understand if you never want to see me again. B-because I meant what I said – I have always loved you. At first, it was in an uncle sort of way. I mean, I didn't have anyone. Pan and Goten had each other, Bra and Trunks had each other – and I had you. But then, it became something deeper…I guess because we're not related, or something."

"Marron, of course I want to see you again! You're so important to me…"

"But just as an adopted niece, right?"

Yamcha cleared his throat. "Well, to tell you the truth, I'm not so sure anymore. You're so beautiful, Marron. I-I wish you could be mine…"

"I can be, Yamcha." Marron stood up, and started walking back towards the reception room. "I want to thank you, for being here for me. I'll let you think about what I said. Come to me when you're ready. If I don't see you, I'll know what you decided."

Watching her departing form, Yamcha remained on the stone bench, in a state of utter confusion.

*   *   *   *   *   *

Yamcha ran his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time, and sighed heavily. _What am I doing here?_ He stared blankly at the door in front of him, and checked the number with the small address book in his hand. It was three weeks after Trunks and Pan's wedding, and Yamcha had finally come to a decision.

Taking a deep breath, in an attempt to swallow his fear, Yamcha knocked.

The door creaked open to the limit of its chain lock, and a pretty face peered through. "Yamcha?"

"Hi, Marron. How ya doing?" Yamcha greeted, feeling like the world's biggest fool.

"Uh, hi, why don't you come in?" She opened the door fully, and stood aside to let him in.

"Nice apartment," he commented.

"That's right – you couldn't make it to my housewarming party, could you?" Marron locked the door behind them. "I suppose I should give you the tour then."

"Well, actually, I'd rather we talked first."

"Oh, I see. Shall we sit down?"

Marron led Yamcha to her living room, and motioned for him to sit on the magenta couch. 

He cleared his throat. "I-I've been thinking a lot these past couple of weeks…about Trunks and Pan's wedding, and what was said. About…us…"

"That was the idea," Marron stated, with an emotionless face. 

"Well…yeah. But anyway…I decided that I really want to be with you, but, it would be so hard, so complicated…"

"That's what you came to tell me? That you still haven't decided what I'm worth to you?"

"You know that's not true, Marron. You know what you're worth to me – the world. But, I want to make sure that you know what you want. Are you prepared for what could happen if the two of us were together?"

Marron managed a smile. "Do you honestly think that I've never thought about that? I've known about my love for you for a long time. I've weighed up all the pros and cons, all the complications, all the benefits." She placed a hand on his cheek. "You're worth whatever the world wants to throw at me. Even if it means losing the respect of my friends and family. I love you that much. What about you? What are you prepared to lose?"

"Everything – because that's what you are to me," Yamcha admitted in a low voice. He really had given it long careful thought. She was worth even death. He would not deny that he was terrified of the consequences their relationship might bring about, but fear of a life without her in it was far worse.

He pulled her close to him, and kissed her lightly. Marron deepened the kiss, before resting her hand on his chest, settling into the comfort of his embrace. Her cheek was damp with tears, which he noticed.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, softly.

"I'm just so happy – I never thought I could find someone, who would love me, care for me, and look after me."

"You know I will do all of that, don't you?"

"Of course I do." She smiled happily. "You're the best thing that could ever happen to me."

"Right back at you, beautiful."

*   *   *   *   *   *

A/N: Sorry about the crappy ending – I had no idea what to write! But, there: that's my attempt at a sweet Y/M romance. They mostly seem to be raunchy lemons, like "A Better Way to Be", but I can't seem to write them anymore. Hope you liked it anyway.


End file.
